


It's a Work in Progress

by troubavaestor



Series: The Pretty Boy Trio [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine Daiki & Momoi Satsuki Friendship, Aomine Daiki Being an Asshole, Aomine Daiki Being an Idiot, Firefighter Kagami Taiga, Idiots in Love, Kindergarten Teacher Kuroko Tetsuya, Kise Ryouta Being an Idiot, M/M, Miscommunication, Model Kise Ryouta, Police Officer Aomine Daiki, Police Officer Yamazaki Sousuke, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:58:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11662110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubavaestor/pseuds/troubavaestor
Summary: In which Aomine Daiki and Kise Ryouta have been dating/not dating since middle school/high school/college. Aomine believes he and Kise are an item, Kise doesn't know what to think. Now they're rounding out their twenties and they still don't know what they are.





	It's a Work in Progress

Kise Ryouta had it all; devastatingly handsome good looks, a rocking body, a wide skill set ranging from sports to modelling to singing. He was a jack of all trades, a quadruple threat with modelling, singing, acting and dancing under his belt; and if you wanted to count his illustrious basketball career then he was a quintuple threat. Yes, to the outsider looking in, Kise was the epitome of success and beauty, but that wasn’t the case to the insiders who knew where to look.

They would notice Kise’s brief lost look when the rare interviewer brought up his star studded basketball past. They would see the raggedy dinosaur of a cell phone he insisted on carrying around. While only the truly initiated would know that despite the numerous women and men he was seen with, in public and on print, Kise went home alone every night to an empty apartment. Even fewer knew about the dark cloud that hung over his bright, but deceiving past. And only one person knew about the meaning of the dinosaur phone; the person who had given it to him.

In high school his modelling career really began climbing, but it wasn’t until college when he hit true stardom. Now, at 29, he was considered ancient by modelling terms, older for a dancer, young for an actor and in his prime as an entertainer. Though he’d stated in an interview last year that he would be taking a break from singing and dancing to focus more on acting and returning to his roots as a model he fervently promised all his fans that he would return to the stage soon. Right now he was preparing to walk a few shows and film a drama or two with a movie at the end of the year to wrap things up, but please continue to love and support him! It was all he could do to keep the smile pasted on his face during the interview.

Currently he had a supporting role in a rock band era TV drama where he played the tortured, but beautiful bassist. Apparently it warmed the cockles of his fans hearts to know that he wasn’t making an immediate departure from music, though to be fair he hardly ever sang while they were filming, but he did sing one of the songs used in the promotional videos.

As Kise sat in the makeup department, having a faint black line pushed into his lash line and then subtly flicked out to create his character’s signature cat eye, he slid his phone out from the jacket sitting next to him and stared at the dark blue cover.

“Waiting for a call from your girlfriend?” One of the makeup artists teased.  
“Maybe."  
His makeup team launched into a frenzy of questions, but he dutifully ignored them with a gracious smile. His manager had warned him about being too flippant with his words. _You never know who might be listening, Kise-kun! Please be more careful!_

Well, he was trying.

“I’m just waiting on a call from a friend. We’re supposed to see each other at the end of the week, but so far radio silence. Can you believe that he's actually busier than I am? Me! A globe-trotting model!”  
“Is that why you’ve been so down lately? You haven’t been your usual upbeat self these days.”  
The artists all nodded in agreement, concern in their eyes as their hands never stopped moving. Had he cleaned the situation up enough?  
  
“Just tired, ladies.” Kise winked before being whacked on the head with a makeup brush for moving, “After all, in between shooting my scenes I’m shooting commercials or posing for adverts or hosting events. Can’t a guy be a little bummed when an old friend can’t find time to hang out and relax especially when it’s sort of all I want to do?”

They tittered and tutted over him. Of course it wasn’t wrong, but that friend probably had circumstances.  
“Maybe he’s busy spending time with his girlfriend or his job is very demanding. It’s okay, things will look up. After all, Golden Week is coming!”

Kise didn’t want to say that _he_ was the girlfriend or that he could be very demanding too because only of those things was true.

“He’s married to his job. We used to play basketball together.”  
“Oh wow!” They crowed over him, asking questions and applying the finishing touches to his makeup. The intern, who was barely paying attention, sat mixing hair dye for another customer, she nonchalantly tossed out, “Was he any good?”

It made Kise pause, mentally. On the outside he was still mid-laugh and swatting away the team’s encroaching brushes. His voice dropped only slightly, “He’s the best.”

The artists tittered once more, but he didn’t even attempt to keep his head in the conversation. All he was thinking about was the broken way the notification light on his cellphone blinked, a treacherous hope. Would it kill Aominecchi to send one measly text message?  
  
  
to Kise

_hey you free this weekend? Wanna play some streetball?_   
_answer your phone jesus_   
_are you at work right now?_   
_guess you must be busy. Am I going to see another flashy billboard with your face plastered all over it?_   
_are you mad at me? I cant remember if I did something stupid just tell me if I did_   
_Kise wtf where are you? why arent you answering any of my messages? did you leave the goddamn country without telling me again?_

Aomine looked at his last unread LINE message and cursed, he sounded so...so _needy_. Looking at the time stamps he tried to convince himself that it was okay, they’d been sent out over a period of hours over two days. Not creepy at all. If you didn't count the four outgoing calls that sat in his call log, which he didn't. He couldn’t help the sigh that slipped out as he hung his head. He knew that Kise was a star; a bona fide celebrity and that with those star-like qualities came a star-like workload that left little room for relaxation. Still, would it kill him to reply every now and then? Even a ‘I’m busy talk later’ would suffice. There didn’t even need to be a ‘talk later’ there just needed to be something!

He was acting like a girl again, it needed to stop.

It was just sleep deprivation making him act crazy needy. Maybe it was time to suck in his pride and call first, but he’d never called first! Not in the billion years they’d known each other had Aomine ever called first. It was something that Bakagami had brought up the last time he and Tetsu had met up for street basketball.  
First of all why the hell did it have to be Kagami, of all people, who pointed it out? KAGAMI. The idiot extraordinaire who’d somehow managed to slip past the defensive wall that was Satsuki and capture Tetsu all for himself. How Aomine was getting advice from Kagami was beyond the both of them. Tetsu of course would sit with a smug ass smile on his face like, ‘yeah you tell him baby.’

Aomine looked at his phone one more time before tossing it onto his bedside table and flopping down on his bed. He’d worked almost 100 hours this week and damned if he wasn’t spending his day off catching up on sleep. As he shimmied under his covers he stared at the dark screen, waiting for it to light up. Somewhere along the way, he fell asleep.  
  
  
Kise tossed his phone into the air and caught it as he half-listened to his manager prattle on about the day’s schedule.  
“Coo-chan can I have tomorrow off?”  
His manager shrieked, but also somehow sighed, “Were you not listening to a word I said? You’re very busy this week! Tomorrow is the audition for the Guns and Roses and Zombies remake!”  
“But wouldn’t that be too similar to what I’m doing right now? Diversity is a thing.”

His manager sighed again, murmuring about deadlines and replacements and broken legs. Sure Coo-chan was just a temporary manager until his regular manager, a super scary lady, returned from her maternity leave, but it’d be nice if Coo-chan could at least pretend like he was doing a good job. After all, Kise Ryouta didn’t just shoot to stardom overnight; he was the product of years of hard work and dedication.  
“If I go to the audition can I have the rest of the day off? It’s in the morning right?”  
“8am, will you wake up in time Kise-kun?”  
Kise just smiled at Coo-chan in response making the manager sigh once more.  
“This doesn’t mean yes!”  
“It didn’t mean no.” Kise sang.

Maybe he’d just freaking show up at Aominecchi’s apartment and demand to know what the heck was going on with all this radio silence. There was the constant fear that Aomine had finally found someone, someone with huge boobs and a huge lack of brains. It sat at the back of his mind, lurking like an overzealous fan hell-bent on getting a lock of hair from their idol. Not that it had ever happened, or even threatened to happen, but still…paranoia couldn’t be helped now could it?

Sometimes he wished he was just out. Out of the closet, out and proud, out like Kisumi and unashamed and unrestricted by society’s standards, but that wasn’t a luxury Kise could afford. Yeah, sometimes, he lost himself in daydreams of walking around with Aomine in public, holding hands, going on dates, feeding each other, just simple, stupid, normal couple things, but then he’d wake up. He knew better. Someone like Aomine deserved to have children, be normal and accepted by society. He knew that Kisumi’s happiness came with a price.  
Kisumi had been driven out of his company by a homophobic company president, was forced to leave the pop idol group he’d been a member of for the past six years, people he’d considered family turned their backs on him. As jealous as Kise was he knew better. Besides, it was better to be in the closet and keep his secret safe than risk his future on the possibility, and eventuality, that one day Aomine would leave him.  
  
  
“Why do you never answer your damn phone?”  
Kise lifted the fashion magazine off of his face and looked up into the bemused eyes of Oikawa. He started to scramble up off the sofa for a hug, but Oikawa told him to just sit as he flopped onto the couch next to him. The magazine rested on the couch in the space between them. He pulled out his phone and stared at the stupid, lying blinking light.  
“Sorry, it’s been weird lately. Keeps flashing like I have messages, but when I open it there's nothing.”  
“Kisumi is having a party on Saturday, you’re coming right?”  
“Kisucchi is having a party?”  
Oikawa lifted an eyebrow, “You’d know if your phone worked and our group messages went through to you. Honestly, I don’t know why you insist on keeping that pre-historic phone. It’s older than all of us.”  
“That’s not true! It’s just old, it still works. Sometimes.”  
“It makes three calls, accepts one and text messages are dead on arrival. It’s time for a new phone.”  
“I can’t.” Kise hedged, “It was a gift. From my friend.”  
“Must be some friend if you’re willing to sacrifice your friends in the here and now.”  
Kise winced, he was about to reply when one of the stylists motioned at him. He stood and turned to his friend with big, puppy dog eyes, “Sorry, I’ll be there, at Kisucchi’s party. I promise. What time is it?”  
  
  
Somewhere behind a precarious stack of paperwork came a sound straight out of the horror movie he’d watched last month with Kise. Aomine looked over at the source of the groan.  
“What’s up?”  
“Kisumi wants to have a party this weekend and he’s inviting all of his model friends. I hate his model friends.”  
“Isn’t your boyfriend friends with Kise?”  
“Kise. Kise Kise Kise.” Sousuke mumbled to himself, “Oh, Ryo-chan.”  
He felt his eyebrow twitch, “Ryo-chan?”  
Sousuke gently moved the stack of papers to one side so that he could see his partner easier.  
“Yeah, sometimes it’s Ki-chan. He’s coming, he's okay. Better than Oikawa that’s for sure. Man, what a harpy.”  
  
Aomine chose to ignore the nickname, obviously Kise wasn't Kisumi's type. Still irked him though.  
  
"You might be the only person I know who'd be upset about hosting a party with a bunch of models."  
Sousuke glared at him, "Oikawa. Tooru."  
"Seems okay."  
This time Sousuke snorted as he tried to fill out some more paperwork, "You should come meet him, won't be saying he's alright then."  
"Okay, I'll be there."  
"Really? Dude, you don't need to, I was screwing with you. You _don't_ wanna meet him, believe me, your life'll be better off."  
"Nope, I'm going. When and where?"  
  
He was not about to let this golden opportunity to grill Kise pass him by. Kise was best friends with Kisumi, he'd be there and when Aomine got his hands on him. Well, some things just needed to be said in person. Text screaming/bitching didn't quite cover the range of his anger.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Next we delve into Kisumi's party.


End file.
